The agitated bearing of this man excited the cynic's curiosity. He quickened his pace, and soon recognised M. de Macreuse, who could not tear himself away from the house where the marquis lingered,--the marquis whose heart Macreuse would have torn from his breast, had he been able to do it. Yielding to a truly diabolical impulse, Ravil approached Macreuse, and said: "Good evening, M. de Macreuse." The abbe's protege raised his head, and the evil passions that filled his heart could be read so plainly in his face that De Ravil congratulated himself upon his idea. "What do you want?" Macreuse demanded, brusquely, not recognising De Ravil at the first glance. Then looking at him more attentively, he said: "Ah, it is you, M. de Ravil; excuse me." He made a movement as if about to walk on, but De Ravil checked him by saying: "M. de Macreuse, I feel sure that we are likely to understand and be of service to each other." "In what way, monsieur?" "We hate the same man, that is something." "Whom?" "M. de Maillefort." "So you, too, hate him?" "With a deadly hatred." "Well, what of it, monsieur?" "Well, having the same animosity, we may have the same interests." "I do not understand you, M. de Ravil." "M. de Macreuse, you are a much too gifted and energetic man to allow yourself to be discouraged by one setback." "What setback, monsieur?" "So I will take you into my confidence. I had a fool of a friend, known to you as M. de Mornand, who had designs upon the same heiress that you did." "M. de Mornand?" "Yes. Unfortunately, a few minutes after your hasty departure, that d--d marquis exposed him as he had exposed you. That is to say, he has rendered my imbecile friend's marriage with the little Beaumesnil an impossibility." "But what difference does it make to you whether the heiress does or does not marry your friend?" "The devil! A great deal of difference! I went into the affair with the expectation of getting a handsome percentage on the dowry, so that accursed hunchback ruined me in ruining Mornand. Do you understand now?" "Perfectly." "Mornand is too much of a milksop--too blubbery, in short, to make any attempt to recover from his setback or even to console himself by revenge." "Revenge? Upon whom?" "Upon that little ninny of an heiress, and indirectly upon that d--d hunchback. But let me assure you that I am not one of those blockheads who thirst for revenge alone; it is a profitable revenge I am after every time." "Profitable?" "Yes, very profitable, and I can furnish the materials for it, too." "You? And what are your materials, pray?" "Excuse me. I possess a very valuable secret." "In relation to Mlle. de Beaumesnil?" "The same. I can work up this valuable secret alone, however, just as well." "And yet you offer--" "To go shares with you? Nothing of the kind. You would think me a simpleton if I did, and you've no fondness for simpletons." "Then, monsieur, to what purpose--?"